In My Veins
by ConsultingHunterOfGalifrey
Summary: *SPOILERS FOR "HEAVEN CAN'T WAIT"* Why was he doing this? And why did that stupid Moose have so much faith in him?
1. Chapter 1

"I can't believe I'm doing this..." Crowley thought to himself as he held the syringe of human blood. He injected it into his skin, feeling the warmth of humanity flow into his veins. It used to hurt, but by now it was an enjoyable pain. He was a sort of masochist like that. But then again, who in Hell wasn't?

He couldn't believe it. He was a junkie, a human blood junkie. "I'm like a reverse Moose." Crowley mused bitterly as the last of the blood worked its way out of the syringe and into his system. He closed his eyes and sighed.

Sam. Why did the boy have such faith in him? See a good in him that didn't exist? That couldn't be? "I saw your humanity that night, I know that part of you's still there..." Honestly, how could he of all people suddenly be so idealistic when it came to the demon?

And why did Crowley want to live up that?

He'd been fighting it since the boys dragged him to The Treehouse. Hell, he'd fought it since he was stuffed in a trunk. But there was this tiny part of him that was human. That still sought forgiveness from the boys, from Castiel, from Kevin, even from God. But mostly Sam. That part of him seemed strongly, strangely attatched to Sam. It wanted to make him proud.

He would've been lying if he'd said he hadn't been slightly attracted to Sam Winchester before. While most of his "advances" had just been bravado, he admitted Giagantor was handsome (But then again, what creature at this point wouldn't?). But then it was just fleeting lust. Besides, when someone and his brother constantly throw a spanner into your plans, it really kills any and all attraction you might have had.

But now it was different. Now he had a fixation on him. Crowley didn't want to say he'd imprinted on the hunter, but it increasingly felt as though he had. ("Bollocks!" He thought. "I've turned into a pedophilac werewolf! There's no dignity to be salvaged from that...") He hated that Sam had done that to him. That Sam believed in the "good" in him. That it was always Sam who visited him. That it made him secretly happy when he did.

That was why he was using Kevin's blood. A prophet's blood was sure to be better then that of a man fresh from confession. (At least, he assumed that was the hiarchy...) He was hoping it could finish the job. Cure him. Make it all stop.

Make him worthy of Sam.

Sure enough, the cause of all his annoying angst had to visit. Sam had concern in his eyes. ("Concern for me?" Crowley thought. "That's new...") "Moose..." he said, using the poker face he'd more or less perfected. "Crowley..." Sam said, actually pulling up a chair. "You're planning on sticking around a while? Be still my heart..." Crowley replied snarkily. Sam didn't reply, continuing to wear his sad puppy face.

"Is everything okay?" Sam asked. Quite sincerely, Crowley noted. Did he... Did he know? "I'm as fine as a jailbird can be, Sam." He retorted. Sam slid back his chair.

"Fine. But just to let you know, Crowley, I go through this "nothing is wrong, I have nothing to tell you" thing with my brother all the time. I'll keep asking until you tell me..."

Crowley smirked. "I'll be looking forward to it, Moose..." Sam got up and headed for the door. "You really expect too much of me, Sam..." Crowley caught himself saying. Sam paused with his hand on the doorway. He sighed. "Maybe I do, Crowley. Maybe I do..."

As soon as the door closed and Crowley was sure he was alone, he slammed his fists on the table and buried his head in his hands.

"Sam Winchester, you're going to be the death of me..."

~0~

A/N So, yeah, this was kind of an experiment/practice for me. I've never really written a straight up shipping fic before. Plus, I wanted to put more Mooseley fics into the web. There are not enough Mooseley fics out there. Gotta show my strange ship some love! *ahem* Not to sound needy, but please feel free to critique... I'd really appreciate it... Well, carry on, my wayward companions... -CH


	2. Chapter 2

Sam sat outside of Crowley's prison. It was time for round three of the "What's wrong?/Nothing's wrong!" game. He didn't go in right away, since he heard Crowley was singing to himself, as he recently started to do. Dean would mock him for it, but Sam kind of liked to hear Crowley sing. Mostly because it was always something different. It was a nice break from the same rock cassettes Sam had heard most of his life and occasional old record they stumbled on.

"Lovely ladies/Waiting for a bite!

Waiting for the customers/

Who only come at night!"

Well, Sam did say it was always something different...

~0~

Crowley tried not to notice how Sam always seemed to come in just as he finished singing. He berated himself for acting like a lovestruck schoolgirl. He was the rightful king of bloody hell, for sin's sake. "Moose, you've come again to my boudoir? Third time this week. People will talk..." he greeted saucily, resting his chin on his hands.

Sam looked at the demon sternly. "You know what I'm here to ask..." Crowley smirked. "And you know my reply. Though, I am willing to give up more names, if you want..." Sam folded his arms and sighed. Crowley smirked, relieved Sam didn't press the issue. "Now, do you want the names alphabetically or in order of "need for you to gank"?"

~0~

"At least Crowley will be earning his keep in Dean's eyes today." Sam thought as he scribbled names down. "It's better than nothing..." "And that's all I got for you, Moose." Crowley stated, putting his hands in front of him on the desk.

"Thank you, Crowley." Sam noticed the side of the demon's mouth twitch up briefly. "You're welcome... Might want to take some time with that list, though. It's all I'm going to give you..." Sam frowned. "You only gave me five names!"

"I believe you said what I knew is what's keeping me alive..." Something snapped in the hunter. Sam slammed his hands down on the table. "NOT IF YOU DON'T COOPERATE! I've tried being gentle, because part of me wants to put a little faith in you..."

"I told you to put your faith elsewhere..."

"SHUT UP! Look, you're alive because Dean believes you can be useful and I believe in the Crowley I saw in the church. You give us any reason to give up, you die. It's as simple as that. And while we don't give up impossible things easily, you've been pushing it. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!?"

Sam panted. Internally, he chastised himself for letting Crowley get to him. The demon just made him feel so conflicted lately. He wanted to believe he could be reformed, but he had four years of antagonism against one night of vulnerability...

~0~

Crowley's back was pressed against his chair, his eyes bulging. He thought he was prone to mercurial outbursts... He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Wow, Sam. I love it when you get forceful, but that right there..." Sam brushed his hair back, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, well, I'm just tired of people keeping things from me. You, Dean..."

"Squirrel?"

"It's none of your business..."

"I know what you're talking about, Sam. You seem to forget I've literally read your book..."

Sam sighed. "I know. I'm still not telling you..."

"Now who's keeping secrets, Moose?" Crowley said as Sam headed to the door. Sam just shook his head, heading to the door. He started humming "Lovely Ladies". Crowley's heart skipped a bit. He was listening to him sing...

He shifted uncomfortably again. He recognized the source of his discomfort. He looked down. "Bugger. He has to be doing this on purpose..." he thought.

~0~

A/N: Yeah, I didn't think I'd be writing more of this. I'd intended "In My Veins" to just be a one-shot, but I got more ideas. Plus, it's letting me use a few concepts from a scrapped fanfic idea I had (I scrapped it because season 9 pushed it too far into AU territory before I could write it, unlike "Charlie and Cas", which I starting writing BEFORE it was officially AU...), like Crowley imprinting on Sam as a side effect of the failed cure. So, yay! Carry on, my wayward companions!

-CH


	3. Chapter 3

Sam didn't show up the next few days (not that Crowley missed him or anything...). "Probably a hunt..." Crowley figured. But when he did show up, he said nothing. "Hello, Moose. Up for another round?" Sam just pulled up a chair, set a plate with a pomegranate and a beer down, and sat down. He pulled out a copy of Game of Thrones, opened the book to his spot, and read quietly to himself. It went on for a good twenty minutes. "The silent treatment, Moose? Seriously? I'm not a child..."

"You threw a crumpled up piece of paper at me and pouted when you refused to cooperate." Sam replied, eyes not leaving the book. "Besides, I obviously need to change tactics with you..." There were a few more minutes of silence. Crowley hated the silence. Sam drank his beer. Crowley leaned up a bit. "Joffery has Eddard executed..." he said, hoping for a reaction. "Already past that part, Crowley..." Sam replied, showing he was in fact on the last chapter. He finished the book and turned his attention to his pomegranate.

Never had Crowley been more relieved Sam chose a non-Freudian fruit to try. In his hundreds of years of existance, he couldn't think of a single way to make eating pomegranates sexy. The closest suggestive thing he could think of was possibly sucking the excess juice off the boy's lips, but even for Crowley that was stretching a bit.

Still, he had to admit the fruit sounded good. Demons could eat if they wanted to, after all. Plus, the lack of attention and silence was killing him. "Hey," Crowley piped up. "What do you want, Crowley?" Sam replied, still not looking at him. Had this been any other time, Crowley would have replied with something like, "Well, you over this desk, begging me for mercy, for starters..."

"Could I have a bit?" Crowley found himself asking instead, pointing to the partially-gutted pomegranate. Sam's eyes flicked over to Crowley, and he became stern. "Are you going to cooperate?"

Was he really going to give up for a few pomegranate seeds and no more silence? "And Sam..." A voice in his head chimed in gleefully. "Shut up." he thought. "I'm going mad..." He looked Sam in the eye. "Yeah..."

They didn't break eye contact for a while. Sam's gaze softened. He pushed the plate where Crowley could reach. The demon took some seeds and proceeded to bite and suck the juicy coating off. ("That sounded wrong... Perhaps there is something Freudian after all...") Sam had a few more seeds as well. Crowley spit the seed bits out into his hand and set them on the plate.

"Alright. A deal's a deal, Sam. If nothing else, I'm mostly a demon of my word... I..."

Then, as if The God Of Unwanted Intrusions themself had sent him personally, Dean walked in. "Sam, we got a hunt down in..." The elder Winchester saw his brother and his prisoner sitting together at the table, pomegranate between them. "What the crap?" he said, pointing at Crowley and the table.

"Hey, I don't interrupt your dates, Dean..." Crowley snarked. Sam held his hands up. "It's not a date. I was just taking a new approach to dealing with Crowley..." Crowley shook his head and tsked. "And there's the problem with our relationship in a nutshell: You always deny it..." Sam pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Whatever it is, Dean, let's go..." Sam said. Dean clapped his hands together and walked out of the room. Sam followed but not before stopping to face Crowley. "You're not getting out of this that easily. When we get back, you're telling." Crowley crossed his legs under the desk and put his hands together on the table. "Looking forward to it..." he said, the side of his mouth twitching upward.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam was off on the hunt for a long time again, much to Crowley's chagrin. He was growing tired of annoying Kevin by singing the worst of what British pop had to offer. (Ah, TV Talent Competitions: providing endless soul revenue for years. Cowell was a miracle worker.) The prophet wasn't coming in to flog him with a stick. Then maybe he could bite the bugger and ingest some blood. Would it have the same effect as injecting it? He wanted to know. For research purposes.

But that little piece of humanity in him told him to let up on the boy. Besides, there was only so much Cher Lloyd he could stand before he lost his precious little sanity. Plus, Sam might snap at him when he got back. And he was not going though the same little "adventure" he went through last time. Though he did learn a valuable life skill.

~0~

Sam made his way to where they stashed Crowley. He passed Kevin, who practically hugged him. "THANK YOU! He wouldn't let up! If you guys hadn't told me not to, I'd have murdered him. So. Much. One Direction. But of course, he stopped just a minute or two ago. Must've gotten bored..." He walked off, leaving Sam to finish his walk to Crowley.

He paused beside the doorway when he heard Crowley singing:

"...because maybe... You're gonna be the one that saves me. And after all... You're my wonderwall!"

Sam smiled a bit. He could feel a sincerity in Crowley. "There's your humanity..."

~0~

Crowley smirked when Sam finally showed his pretty face again. "Sam... Way to stand me up..." Sam rolled his eyes as he sat down. "Sorry to inconvenience you. We never know how long a hunt will be." "They usually seem to take a book's length..." Crowley retorted. Sam buried his face in his hands and groaned. "Never mention those books again." Crowley grinned roguishly. "No promises, Moose..."

"So, you're going to keep your word?" Sam said. Crowley smiled. "Of course. I forgot how effective the silent treatment can be..." Sam sat back, arms folded. "Alright, let's hear it. What's up with you lately?"

"What's up with me? Well, for starters, I've been kidnapped by two flannel-garbed monstrosities. Then, they force me to turn human. But they can't be bothered to finish the job because precious little Sammy might die again, even though you boys constantly flip Death the bird and come back, and leave me a shadow of my former self.

"Now, I've got a psychotic harlot named Abbadon undoing all my years of work in Hell, usurping MY throne, and what can I do about it? Nothing! Why? Because the same two menaces are keeping me locked up in this cell. And the cherry on top of my discontent? I feel the need to use human blood to fix it. To finish what YOU started. And because part of me maybe liked humanity a bit, and meant what I said that night. THAT'S WHAT'S UP WITH ME!" Crowley slammed his hands on the desk.

Sam looked at Crowley like he was some sickly orphaned puppy he stumbled on. He didn't know if the Moose realized he had rested his hand over Crowley's. "I'm sorry about that, Crowley. I really am. If I'd have had my way that night, I'd have finished the job. It'd certainly have simplified things around here. Dean'd only have the angels to deal with..." Something sparked in his eyes. "Stay right there..." he said, getting up.

Crowley looked at Sam unimpressed. "Stay right here? Are... Are you serious, Moose?" Sam shook his head. "You know what I mean. I got a solution to this. At least for you..."

A/N: So, here you go! Fun fact: you know that scrapped Mooseley fanfic idea I mentioned earlier? I had a scene that involved a Sam and Crowley moment in The Impala and on the radio, "Wonderwall" by Oasis would be playing. (Dean and Cas would've been asleep in the back, thus why the radio wouldn't be blasting Classic Rock. So there's another scene I repurposed for here! Hooray for editing! \'o'/ That is all. Carry on, my wayward companions! -CH


End file.
